The car was silent, the soft hum of the engine the only sound filling the air. Elias sat beside Damien in the backseat, his eyes fixed out the window, but his thoughts somewhere far behind.
He clutched a small, smooth wooden box in his hands—the one Alex had given him just before they left the wedding venue. Alex had walked up slowly, face unreadable, and handed it to him with a quiet, "Congratulations on your wedding."
Elias had hesitated, his fingers twitching before finally accepting it. Their eyes met for what felt like the last time. Elias offered a small but genuine smile, saying softly, "Thank you."
Alex had nodded, then turned and walked away without another word. Elias watched him go, a strange tightness forming in his chest. He realized in that moment—it really was their final goodbye.
Back in the car, Damien glanced sideways at Elias, his eyes narrowing slightly at the wooden box in his lap.
"Who was that?" Damien asked, trying to sound casual but failing to mask the edge in his voice.
Elias blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. "No one important," he said quietly, his voice calm, but his grip on the box tightened just a little.
Damien didn't respond. The car rolled on through the city streets, heading toward a house that would now be their shared home—though neither of them knew what that would truly mean.
The car cruised through the quiet streets, the air inside wrapped in a strange mix of silence and unspoken thoughts. Elias sat stiffly beside Damien, his fingers absently toying with the wedding ring on his finger. The metal felt cold, heavy—like it didn't belong.
After a moment, Elias finally spoke, his voice low but clear.
"Um... Damien?"
Damien turned slightly toward him, brows raised. "Yeah?"
"Would it be alright if I... took off the ring for a bit?" Elias asked, eyes on his hand. "It's just... I'm allergic to silver. It's been bothering me since the ceremony."
Damien blinked, caught off guard. "You're allergic? Why didn't you say anything before?"
Elias gave a small shrug and smiled awkwardly. "I didn't exactly have time to file a complaint at the altar."
That made Damien chuckle under his breath. "Fair enough."
As Elias began to slip the ring off, it caught slightly on his knuckle before slipping free—and then it slipped out of his hand completely, clinking softly as it dropped to the car floor.
"Ah, damn it," Elias muttered and leaned down to retrieve it, but before he could, Damien was already reaching over.
"Wait, I got it," Damien said, brushing Elias's hand aside gently. Their fingers touched briefly—warm skin against warm skin—and for a split second, neither of them moved.
Their eyes met in the dim light of the car, the moment stretching quietly between them.
"Thank you," Elias said softly when Damien placed the ring in his palm.
Damien's voice lowered, something tender beneath it. "Next time, just tell me if something's uncomfortable. I don't want you to wear anything that hurts—even if it's symbolic."
Elias looked at him, searching for a hint of sarcasm. But Damien's expression was unreadable—calm, genuine.
"Alright," Elias replied, voice a little quieter than before. He turned his gaze back out the window, but this time, the silence between them didn't feel quite so heavy.
Not cold.
Not distant.
Just… uncertain.
But maybe—just maybe—a beginning.
The car rolled to a smooth stop in front of a grand wrought-iron gate. As it creaked open automatically, Elias stared through the tinted window, eyebrows lifting slightly.
The driveway stretched long and elegant, lined with softly glowing lanterns and perfectly trimmed hedges that led to a house—or more accurately, a modern mansion.
Damien's home loomed ahead like something out of an architectural magazine. The building was a masterclass in contemporary luxury: tall glass walls, sharp angles softened by warm wooden accents, and clean stone lines that made it look sleek yet timeless. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a glimpse inside, where light spilled across marble floors and high ceilings. Every inch whispered quiet power, wealth, and taste.
Elias stepped out of the car and tilted his head slightly as he took it all in.
"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "You live here?"
Damien, stepping out beside him, offered a small smirk. "I don't just live here. I survive here."
He walked ahead and opened the heavy oak door himself—no butlers in sight, just quiet confidence. Inside, the house smelled of cedar and something faintly smoky, like expensive cologne lingering in the air.
A massive open space welcomed them, with a double staircase sweeping up both sides of the foyer. Chandeliers glimmered above like constellations, and art—real art—hung on the walls, not just decorative prints.
To their left, a sunken living room sprawled across polished hardwood, with plush charcoal couches and a fireplace framed by black marble. To the right, an open kitchen glowed under recessed lights, complete with state-of-the-art appliances and a chef's island that looked barely used.
Elias stood at the threshold for a moment, hands in his pockets, trying to act unfazed. But something about the space felt... heavy. Not cold exactly, but calculated. Like Damien had built this place to feel untouchable—an empire wrapped in silence.
"So..." Elias said, turning to Damien with a small smirk of his own, "...do I get the tour, or should I just pick a wing and start wandering?"
Damien laughed under his breath. "Don't tempt me. You might actually get lost."
They shared a rare smile—brief, but something.
A new chapter had started. Whether it was the first page of peace or chaos... neither of them could say.
As Damien led Elias up the grand staircase, pointing out the guest rooms, his study, and the private gym, Elias trailed a few steps behind, silently taking everything in. It was surreal. Lavish. Impossibly perfect.
Then they reached the master bedroom.
Damien opened the door and motioned Elias inside. The room was enormous—decorated in shades of charcoal and cream, with a massive bed that looked like it had never been touched.
But Elias's eyes didn't stop there.
On the far wall, just above a low glass cabinet, was a framed photo.
He froze.
It was Damien. And beside him—an omega. Smiling. Intimately close.
Elias's heart stopped for a beat.
He turned slowly toward Damien, voice barely above a whisper.
"Who is that?"
Damien didn't answer right away.
Instead, he stepped inside, closed the door behind them, and said in a quiet, unreadable voice:
"It's complicated."